38. Chapter 38

Chapter thirty-eight

I pull out my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I text Laelia. The cold seeps through my jacket, making me shiver despite my brisk pace. The streets are emptying as people head home, their hurried footsteps echoing faintly in the distance. I’m striding towards the town centre, my thoughts as turbulent as the icy wind around me.

Hey, beautiful. Going to my mum’s was a mistake. I overheard her and Ethan talking about keeping secrets, and now I’m completely stressed out. My head’s spinning, and I don’t even know what to make of it anymore. I don’t get what’s happening. What time do you finish work? I need you beautiful xx

After sending the message, I shove my phone back into my pocket with a sense of urgency. The cold air feels sharper now, biting through my jacket as my anger simmers beneath the surface. My steps quicken, almost frantic, as I make my way through the familiar streets of the small town centre that now feel strangely alien. The usual hum of the town, usually so comforting, seems distant and muted, overshadowed by the chaotic storm raging in my mind.

The chill I feel is more than just physical; it’s as though it seeps into my very bones, amplifying the heated frustration roiling inside me. Every gust of wind seems to echo the turmoil in my chest, making me shiver with both the cold and my rising anger. The image of my mum and Ethan huddled together, their heads bent close in a hushed conversation, is etched into my mind, and it won’t let go. Their words were just out of earshot, slipping away like sand through my fingers, leaving me with a gnawing sense of unease.

The sight of them, their voices low and urgent, has left me feeling strangely unsettled. The secrecy of their exchange feels like a shadow, casting a pall over everything. It’s as if a veil has been drawn over a crucial piece of the puzzle, and I’m left groping in the dark, desperate to understand. My thoughts are a tangled mess of confusion and frustration, each step I take only pushing me deeper into a vortex of uncertainty and anger.

What could they have been talking about? Why the secrecy? Every possibility seems to collide in my mind, creating a whirlwind of speculation and dread. The more I try to piece together what I overheard, the more elusive it becomes. It’s like trying to grasp smoke with my bare hands—nothing seems solid or clear. The questions swirl around me, mixing with the anger that burns just beneath the surface.

The small town centre that I’m making my way through now seems to offer no solace. The familiar streets and quaint shops that usually bring comfort now seem alien, their usual charm overshadowed by my inner turmoil. I feel like an outsider in my own life, caught between a sense of betrayal and an urgent need for answers. The warm glow of the street lamps and the soft murmur of evening activity seem distant, almost mocking in their normalcy.

I pass by a street performer, his guitar strumming a melancholic tune that seems to echo my inner turmoil. I watch for a moment, feeling a pang of sorrow as the music fills the cold air, blending with the swirling confusion in my mind. I briefly close my eyes, letting the notes wash over me, but the sense of disorientation remains.

I’m overwhelmed by a strange mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and a profound sense of being lost. Each step feels like a step further into a maze of mystery and frustration, and I’m desperate to find my way out. All I want is to understand what’s happening, why secrets are being kept, and what it all means for us. The uncertainty gnaws at me, making my head spin and my heart race, as I continue to navigate the cold, confusing streets, hoping for a glimpse of clarity amidst the chaos.

As I continue my hurried walk through the quieting streets, something catches my eye in a shop window—an old, faded picture of a hiking trail framed behind the glass. I stop, momentarily distracted, staring at the image. It's a path I know well, winding through a dense forest, with towering trees that filter soft rays of sunlight. The sight stirs something deep inside me, a memory that hits with unexpected clarity.

It was the trail Laelia and I hiked together last summer. I can still remember the feeling of her hand in mine as we navigated the rocky path, our laughter mingling with the sound of rustling leaves. That day had been so perfect—clear skies, warm sun, and the smell of pine filling the air. We had stood at the highest point, looking out at the world stretched out before us, feeling on top of everything, like nothing could touch us.

The memory brings a bittersweet ache to my chest. It feels so distant now, like another life, when things were simpler, when I wasn’t plagued by this gnawing sense of confusion. I can almost hear Laelia’s voice, light and teasing, telling me not to worry so much, that everything would work out. Back then, I believed her.

But now, standing in front of this shop window, all I feel is the heavy weight of uncertainty. I long for that feeling again, that sense of peace and clarity I had on that trail, but it feels out of reach, clouded by the secrets swirling around me. My thoughts keep circling back to my mum and Ethan, their hushed conversation playing on a loop in my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that something important is being kept from me, something that could change everything.

The cold wind snaps me back to the present, and I tear my gaze away from the photograph. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, half-hoping it’s Laelia. I need her, now more than ever. I need her to help me make sense of all this, to remind me of that feeling on the trail—that everything can be okay, that not everything is a mystery I can’t solve.

With a sigh, I shove my phone back into my pocket and resume walking, but the memory lingers, like an echo from a better time, pulling at the edges of my mind as I keep striding through the cold, uncertain night.